Trillionaires' War

Chapter 18

Chapter 18

I forcefully open my eyes. The throbbing in my head isn't as bad as I thought it'd be. Given the amount of shots I had, I should be throwing up right now. I let my eyes adjust. It's dark, but I can make out that this isn't a room I'm familiar with. How long have I've been sleeping? And where am I? I sit up and rub my eyes. I frown when I look down under the sheets, finding myself completely naked. Oh no... Did I...I couldn't have been that drunk. Right? A small light in the corner of the room flicks on. I'm about to make out Marcus with a drink in hand. The light it faint making the dark shadows loom around him. His eyes have a coldness in them that scares me.

He downs the contents of his glass cup. By the overloaded smell of the room, I know it's Whiskey. I hold tight to the sheets. Why is he looking at me like that? Like he's in between strangling me or killing me. Neither would work on my favor. He slams the glass on the night stand, making me jump a little. He takes the bottle and pours more in his glass. I gather the courage to I stand up. I take the few steps to him while holding the sheet to me for dear life. "I think you've had enough." I take the glass away.

He gives me a harsh look. "I'll be the judge of that." He takes it back and downs it like a pro.

I take a step back. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing." He pours himself around drink.

I've ever seen this side of him. His stare is cold. His body is stiff yet confident. I'm scared to say the wrong thing because I don't know what he'd do. There's angry and then there's this. This darkness that's showing in him. It's scaring me. He reaches to his side and pulls out a gun. He slams it on the side table without any emotion. The gun is directly under the light. I notice a semi-sweat stain on the black handle. My mind reaches for the worst possible situation. Abdul. I remember falling asleep next to him on the grass after our 'fun's night. Noting Marcus's short fuse I can't help but to ask. I just don't know how to with his demeanor right now.

He downs another drink. "Did you do anything to Abdul?"

Marcus stills. His jaw clenches. The grip he has on the glass tightens. My eyes widen when I see it crack before it shatters in his hand. Some shards fall on the floor, echoing in the room. Blood drips down from his open wounds, but he doesn't flinch. He just fists his hand, making it worst.

I kneel down in front of him. I gently open his hand. There's no visible shards that I see are punctured in, but with the amount of blood pouring over it's hard to tell. "We need to clean it." I press some of the sheet to his hand to stop the bleeding. I notice quickly that it won't work when it soaks thrdough within seconds. I'm silently panicking. This looks painful. Why isn't he in pain? I look up at with with worry.

He just stares back with a frown in place. "I didn't like it." He finally says.

I'm taking back by the meaningful depth in his voice. I know he's not talking about the glass cutting into his hand. "What are you talking about?"

His frown deepens with confusion then anger. "I didn't like seeing you with him." He leans down a little and grips my chin with his bloody hand. He looks like he's trying to control the devil inside him. His grip is hard and it's turning quickly painful, but I take it. "I didn't like you hugging him in your sleep. I wanted to kill him." He pulls me closer to him. "I want to kill him." He emphasizes.

I cover his grip with my hand to loosen it up. He gets the clue and drops his hand. "There's nothing going on with me and him." I assure him. I can't lie to him about it. Yes, it was a date, but it meant nothing to me.

He stays silent for a moment, thinking. "If there was, he'd be a dead man walking."

I gulp at the threat in his voice. "You don't need to threaten anyone to have me. All you have to do is accept me. Accept us."